


Sun and Moon

by OopsImFade



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anger, Body mutilation, Deceit has atypical dysphoria, Dysphoria doesnt really show up much here though focuses more on relation dynamic and emotions, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Patton is Logans father, Patton is just mentioned, Remus is just mentioned, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Sympathetic Logan Sanders, Trans Man Deceit, Unsympathetic Virgil Sanders, body horror kind of, god AU, murder of children, star crossed lovers, theyre gods carol, unsympathetic Patton Sanders, womb snatching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21888469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OopsImFade/pseuds/OopsImFade
Summary: Secret Santa for okay-finne! I hope you like it! I'm sure it probably isn't really what you were imagining oof XD.
Relationships: Logic | Logan Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Sun and Moon

"Sun"

\---------

He can hear their cries.

It distracts him from his own pain, the pain of having something so important ripped out of him.

It also makes his torture a million times worse.

Listening to the cries of his children in the room next door, not knowing if they're actually being hurt or if they're just scared. 

He prays that they're just scared. Losing this integral part of him is one thing. Losing the children he already has is another. 

"Stop- stop- don't hurt them, please don't hurt them! They're chil- they're children!" He yells out as best he can, panicked and thrashing on the bed he's strapped too. It’s too hard to lie right now, too hard to put up the harsh and cocky mask he usually puts up for the beasts near him. 

Blood soaking the gauze around his abdomen. 

Blood, everywhere. 

The 'doctor' the gods had sent stands, grinning to himself, on the other side of the room, dark circles under his eyes and purple hair his most visible features. He smells like lightning. 

Pain, everywhere. 

In his head, in his body, in his heart. 

The screams cut off in the other room, and his breath catches. 

They should still be screaming. They should still be scared. 

His own cries cut off as his panic mounts and chokes him, grief overwhelming him even as he denies it. 

Maybe the screaming wasn't his children. Maybe it had been just another cruel method the gods decided to use to punish him more. 

"Please, my- my children." His voice breaks on the last word. He can't convince himself that it's true; that the terror stricken voices hadn't been his treasures. 

Not with blood caked against his dark skin and in his golden hair, against the scales that he had always prided himself in keeping in perfect order.

Not when they'd already gone farther than he'd thought they would. 

Why take away his womb and leave him with his children?

What point would there be to take away his ability to give life while leaving him with the life he's already made? 

_____________

The first ice age is caused by his grief. He stays locked within the depths of his palace, away from the servants who are only trying to help. 

He gets punished for this too, of course. 

Anything that affects their mortals. 

And so, the unblemished skin of his face becomes puckered on one side, burnt by a fire specially made to be so unnatural that it could wound the very Sun. The scales that had been there damage, some fall off completely and some meld into his skin grotesquely. It leaves his skin patchy and scarred, and dry, and far from the beauty he had once prided himself in. 

His right eye is lost to the flames as well. This, he doesn't mourn. He can't bring himself to care. Not with the gaping hole he can feel inside of him- both in his body and in his heart. 

Word gets from his Moon to him, somehow. The servants, he thinks. Usually it would be too risky to do it, but with their Lord on the verge of giving up, it may be well worth it. 

______________

The letter has been the only thing that has kept him going for longer than he cares to count. 

Day after day. The one letter that has been able to slip through the tighter security put around his palace since his mistakes. 

Now, it's worn to the point of being so fragile that he will have to copy it over again soon. He's worn through so many copies that it's obscene. He can't help it. The words and the one who sent it mean everything to him now. 

The letter reminds him that even if he's lost greatly, someone shares that loss with him. And if he were to give up, he would cause him even greater tragedy.

'My Sun,  
We will be brought together once again. I am sure of it.  
Think less of our loss, as much as it pains me to say that, and think more of what may have been.  
Do not lose yourself in sadness in grief.  
Let your anger fester and pull you together and push you forward, so that we may be united again, as we should be.  
Hold on.  
The mortals will be the death of themselves one day, when the gods refuse to come to their aid.  
We will be released.  
Do not do this to yourself. You will take away the very last piece of me that the gods have not completely stripped away.  
Let me be that piece for you as well.  
Your Moon'

He will be holding on, for forever if he has to. He has to keep hope that he will be able to see his Moon again. 

Not as much hope as he had last time. Not enough to make him foolish enough that he considers doing something about it himself again.

Just enough that he can convince himself that there is a reason to keep going. 

_____________

More copies of the letter come and go. 

More days.

More glimpses of night. Of the Moon Palace on the horizon, just out of reach.

Finally, word gets to him of the fulfillment of what his Moon had said would take place. 

The Mortals will reach their end soon. 

This is the first time in a long time that the servants kept in the Sun Palace see their Lord break down. 

The current copy of the letter gets crushed to his chest, and the ink smears where tears dare to touch down on the creased paper. 

Soon. 

Soon, it will feel like this had all been for something, that his pain and perseverance hadn't been for nothing. 

He will see his Moon soon, and he will be able to heal properly this time. 

_______________________

“Moon”

\----------

“My lord! My lord! Have you heard the good news yet?” A servant’s cry echoes through the palace, rushing into the throne room where almost everything is plated in or made of reflective minerals and polished well enough that you can see every thread of the staff member’s clothing as they scamper by. 

“The good news of what? That my father will not be joi-”

“That the other gods have given up on the mortals!” The servant cuts their lord off, but such a thing is not worried about in the palace of the Moon. He does not care for the silly social rules the other gods put in place, even if the one he so sorely misses, does. 

The god is frozen now- much like he has felt inwardly all these years, separated from his warmth. The gods- especially on like… him, Patton- giving up on their mortals? Now? Finally? It can’t be true. They uprooted whole lives, turned over everything and rewrote fate herself to put these mortals here.

“The gods have given up on their mortals? On their Earth?”  
“Yes! Remus says he’s heard the mortals are to die out within the week! He’s said you’re going to be allowed to leave your palace!” 

The Moon Palace. More like a prison, he thinks. A silvery, reflective castle on top of gangly legs that does nothing more than stalk around the earth. A palace he had thought would never be able to do more than that. But with the Humans perishing, if this is true…

“You’re sure about this, Zero?” The servant hesitates when they’re addressed by the robed figure upon his throne.  
“I.. It’s hard to be certain. But I have heard this from Remus and his place by the throne in-”

“- Remus is far from where orders originate. Send word to the Light Council and ask for confirmation for me.” There’s no use getting his hopes too high just yet. He can’t afford to. He remembers what happened last time someone had stretched their hopes a little too far; a little too soon. It hadn’t been him, of course, last time. But it reminds him, all the same, to be much more careful with his feelings. 

“Of course, Sir.” They bow before heading back out of the throne room; their steps echoing in the nearly empty halls.  
The Moon Palace isn’t one you would imagine a god would be living in. The walls empty, bare. Very few furnishings interrupt the mirrored structure of the castle, making the interior like a maze to all those who don’t know their way around by heart. 

The servants closer to the god say that his castle is much like him. Unyielding for those not in his heart. 

The god stands from his throne and goes to stand by one of the few windows in his home. He always sees the Sunset from here. His castle ever chasing after the Sun palace; his mind and heart ever chasing after someone he had once and may not be able to ever have again. 

He can keep hope, now. He allows himself a small sliver of it. 

Soon, he may get to be in the embrace of the Sun once again. Feel his warm embrace. Smell the slightly dusty, warm scent that not many mortals have the ability to catch a whiff of. Even the prospect of just catching a full glimpse of his Sun excites him. 

It’s been so long. Ages. Epochs. Periods. Eras. Eons. Supereons. Further. He isn’t sure there’s a word for how long it’s been. 

All he knows is that he’s only left with the faint memories of warm days and cooler nights spent with his lover, of the way they touched back when they actually could. 

Of how he now is doomed to spend eternity only chasing after his Sun, never to catch him, for the sake of the mortals that reside on the Earth the Elder gods had given to him and his Sun.

The Moon resents the Mortals for the job the gods have given him, and resents the gods for having taken his Earth and placed mortals on it in the first place-- then having the audacity to ask for him and his Sun to do this; to be separated until their whims decided they could be together once again.  
He resents them for what they did to his Sun when they had said no at first. 

The Moon will wait and bide his time until he is allowed to reunite with his Sun, for his Sun’s sake. 

And then there will be hell to pay.

__________________


End file.
